Something in me is as cold as winters. That grain of love, you planted in my heart, started to germinate, that was the time when you had already left.
Aching part is :You couldn’t know. I couldn’t let you know.
Getting no shower of your love and warmth of your care- this sprouted grain in my heart is decaying. It’s roots are little & fragile. But strong & determined, burried deep in my heart. Decaying of this sprouted grain is also decaying my heart.
This poor sprout isn’t meant to become a plant and bear flowers , it’s destined to die but it won’t die alone, it will take away a part of me alongwith.
Even after you ,I have spent every moment with you.
Every night I steal few hours & run away with your ghost.
Far……………….far away, with you am lost. That fantasy land that belongs to us.
Inbetween thousands of emotions ,that purely belong to my soul………. That no ink has privilege to write, and no paper can be honoured with them.
Here I am in the middle of the crowd ,speaking to you without words, no-one but only you will listen to my story.
I don’t want you……..I just want you to know.